Emile walked over and brought the tools over as asked, getting a murmur of thanks before Nyra swore under her breath again, then went quiet except for the sound of ratcheting.
“f*****g Audi gearboxes…” Nyra gave a grunt, then made a satisfied noise. “There we are…” There was another rattle of tools, and Nyra leaned over to get a proper look at her. “So what about you? How’d you end up across the pond?”
“My husband was in finance,” Emile explained after a moment. “His firm offered him a promotion, but it required him to relocate. I decided to come with him rather than stay in France.”
“You say was,” Nyra observed as she went back to work. “Things didn’t work out?”
“No…” Emile bit her lip, her chest suddenly tight. “We had two very good years here. Happy years. I made some friends. I had
